


Silence Speaks Louder

by Avathyst



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Bathroom Sex, Choking, F/F, Minor Angst, Pillow Princess Angela, Rough Sex, They have a history, Top Moira, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 21:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15057923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avathyst/pseuds/Avathyst
Summary: Angela runs into an old flame at an expensive gala.Moira has strange recruitment methods.





	Silence Speaks Louder

The Somerset gala was the most significant event of the fall. Socialites gathered to enjoy expensive liquors and foods. With high vaulted ceilings and sprawling rooms, the fundraiser always offered a good time.

A slender, fair-skinned woman stood at the far side of the gala with her back against the wall. With a champagne flute in hand, Angela gazed out on the diverse crowd of people. She nursed her drink, smiling calmly to herself.

A tall Irish woman with one red and one blue eye sauntered up in an elegant lavender suit. The woman leaned against the wall with one arm, facing Angela with a martini glass in the other. “Where’s your stethoscope, angel?

“What do you want, O’Deorain?” Angela asked, her shoulders sagging toward the floor. Angela gazed into the middle distance, sipping her champagne.

Moira waved her martini glass dramatically, gesturing to the crowd of people. “Fools are more to be feared than the wicked.”  

“I will ask once more, what do you want?” Her tone struck hard, contrasting the lively atmosphere.

“I love your dress. Who are you wearing?” Moira gestured with her martini glass.“Is ‘Rental’ an American designer?”

Angela scowled, opening her mouth to speak but Moira cut her off.  With her martini glass, Moira gestured toward a pair of tags poking out from behind Angela’s armpit. Angela craned her arm around to hide the loose slips into her dress.

The band changed the pace, playing a slow romantic song.

“I don’t appreciate your mockery.”

Moira held up one finger, cutting Angela off. She took Angela’s glass from her hand, ghosting her fingers over her skin. Walking a few paces away, Moira set their drinks on a nearby table. Angela attempted to avoid looking at the sharp sway of Moira’s hips, but she failed in seconds.

Moira turned her head, her body soon following. Slithering back to the Doctor, Moira raised her hand. “Care to join me?” She asked, holding her palm toward the vaulted ceiling.

Angela shook her head, laughing softly and placing her hand in Moira’s. Moira’s fingers curled around Angela, bringing her head down to kiss the back of Angela’s hand. She pulled Angela close, firmly but patiently.

The two stood arm in arm, separated from the dancefloor by rows of tables. The music floated on the air as Moira led the dance. With her hand on Angela’s waist, Moira led the dance.

“It’s not about the money,” Angela mutters, looking into the distance.

“It never is.”

“I don’t sleep with coworkers,” said Angela, squeezing Moira’s hand.

Moira stepped out of time, quickly recovering. Her gaze pierced Angela, but she remained silent. As soon as Angela began to regret her quip, Moira broke the silence.

“We aren’t coworkers right now.”

 

* * *

 

“This reminds me of college,” Angela giggled, slipping through the third-floor hallway. She moved quickly, hiding both her grin and her flushed cheeks with one hand.

Moira lagged behind, greeting guests along the way with a nod. Every step she took seemed calculated. “Glad to see your exhibitionist flame still burns.”

“Hush up, you.”

Like every other room, the bathroom sprawled out with lavish luxury. Scattered candles illuminated the room as the only light source.  Ornate paintings lined the walls with artwork, each piece far outside Angela’s price range.

Following behind Angela, Moira slid the door shut and turned the lock. Moira slipped both arms from her jacket, before folding and setting it on the lowered toilet lid. She tugged her cuffs up, straightening the sleeve to her tight button-up shirt. Cracking her neck, Moira walked close behind Angela and stood over her.

“One moment,” muttered Angela, slipping out of Moira’s reach. She jiggled the doorknob, sighing in relief on finding it locked. Standing in front of the door, Angela felt Moira standing behind her again.

Moira brushed Angela’s waist, humming lightly to the music outside. “Afraid you’ll be caught?

“Is my makeup running?” Angela asked, slipping to the side. She took shakily, hastened steps towards the mirror. She looked at herself, tucking blonde hair behind her ears. Her concealer stood firm, but Angela felt the opposite.

Again, Moira’s presence came from behind. Angela looked at Moira’s reflection before staring down at the sink. “Maybe we shouldn’t-”

“Shouldn’t what?”

Angela turned, the marble countertop pressing into the back of her thighs. “I forgot my purse downstairs.”

Moira reached forward, and Angela flinched, but she didn’t touch her. Instead, Moira grabbed the purse on the counter beside Angela. “If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. However, I suspect there’s something you want from me.”

“I want you back.”

Moira didn’t say anything. Angela bit her lip, eyebrows knitting together. Angela looked into Moira’s mismatched eyes. The tension grew until Moira’s eyes fell.

“Do you?”

“You could have said goodbye.”

Moira looked away, running her hands through her hair. As she lingered, something clicked in Angela’s mind. She spluttered, bursting out laughing. Moira pulled back sharply, her head tilting to the side.

“Care to explain the joke?”

Angela’s laughter slowed to the occasional chuckle. Angela licked her lips, before wrapping her fingers around and jerking Moira’s tie. Moira came with, Angela’s face now mere inches away.

“Take what’s yours,” said Angela, growling seductively. Releasing Moira’s tie, Angela fell back. Her back hit the mirror with a sharp thud, but her smile never faltered.

The two breathed, taking a moment of silence. Moira’s eyes fluttered shut, chuckling under her breath. “You never fail to impress, Angela.”

Closing the distance, Moira mashed her lips into Angela’s, the taste of champagne on her lips. Moira shoved her tongue into Angela’s mouth, regaining the upper hand.

Dragging her hands up, Moira wrapped her fingers loosely around Angela’s throat. Angela nodded her head, silently giving permission. Moira leaned forward, her hips spreading Angela’s legs. “Tell me what I want to hear, angel,” she whispered.

“I’m all yours.”

“Good girl.”

Moira dragged her nails up Angela’s thigh, bunching her dress up and exposing more flesh. “Positively drenched,” muttered Moira, running her thumb over Angela's damp panties. Angela’s hips rolled with every touch, wordlessly pleading for more.

Deft fingers slipped the thin fabric to the side, exposing Angela's soaked pussy to the cold bathroom air. Angela squirmed in place, Moira’s hand clenching around her throat. “Please,” she muttered, grinning as she struggled to breathe.

“Look at you, angel,” Moira muttered. Aided by Angela’s slickness, Moira drove her middle finger deep inside Angela, drawing out a long moan. “Wrapped around my little finger.”

“ _Shut up and fuck me_ ,” Angela growled, gripping the counter beneath her with both hands. Her purse clattered to the floor uselessly.

“As you wish.”

Spreading Angela’s folds, Moira added her ring finger. Her palm roughly rubbed the general area of Angela’s clit. Gripping Angela’s neck tighter, Moira pressed deeper inside with a grunt.  Moira lips set in a grim line, glaring into Angela’s eyes. The candlelight cast an ominous glow up Moira’s face, stretching the shadows over her sharp features.

Angela squirmed in place, struggling to control herself under Moira’s grasp. The grip on her throat was tight enough to be noticed, but never enough to block air completely. Angela wheezed, Moira’s hand the only thing keeping her from yelling in pleasure.

“I’m close,” Angela choked, riding Moira’s hand. “Please.”

“ _Cum for me_.”

Angela's entire body tensed, her hips shaking with every thrust. She gripped the counter tighter, her knuckles turning white. Moira held Angela aloft with one hand as Angela’s knees turned to jelly.

As Angela’s whines dragged longer and slowed to a groan, Angela loosened her grip. She reached up, tapping Moira on the shoulder three times.

In response, Moira jerked her fingers out with a slick pop. Groaning from the sudden emptiness, Angela relaxed her muscles one at a time. A lazy smile covered her face, luxuriating in the afterglow.

“Mein Gott,” mumbled Angela, pushing back and sitting upright on the counter. Angela reached between her legs, lightly teasing her sensitive skin. “That was heavenly.”

Without a word, Moira reached for a fancy towel and wiped Angela off her hand. She rubbed thoroughly before tossing the rag to the floor. She picked up her folded jacket and slipped it on one sleeve at a time. Glancing in the mirror, Moira raked her hair back into place.

“O’Deorain,” muttered Angela, looking at her feet.

“Goodbye, angel.”

“Wait.” Angela jumped to her feet, standing up on shaky high heels. Taking a few wobbly steps forward, Angela caught up to Moira. She gripped Moira’s arm, looking down. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m afraid I have no choice.”

“You can’t leave, Moira,” Angela mumbles. “You need to tell me when I start at Oasis.” She raises her head, meeting Moira’s eye line again. Moira rested her hand on top of Angela’s, lacing her fingers underneath.

“I will see you on Monday.”

“See you then, Müsli,” said Angela, patting Moira on the cheek and turning around to face the mirror. Straightening out her dress and hair, Angela cleaned herself up. She turned back around one more time to stand next to Moira. She stretched up on tiptoes and pecked Moira’s cheek.

“You never fail to impress, Angela.”

“You got that right.”

Angela slipped past Moira, unlocking the door without even looking. She turned and blew one last kiss before gliding down the hall with a warm smile.

Angela would remember the sight of Moira raising her hand to catch her kiss. Perhaps there was hope for Dr. O’Deorain after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!
> 
> My name's Ava and if you like what you read there, don't forget to like and comment. I love hearing from you!
> 
> If you want to commission writing you can find my commission info and personal blog here http://avathyst.tumblr.com/post/171777978281/hello-my-name-is-ava-and-i-am-a-trans-writer-and
> 
> Consider donating if you would like to see more! Thank you so much for reading!  
> https://ko-fi.com/R6R4CMXV


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